


The Ass in Assassin

by lunarshores (damichan)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Assassination, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Dick Jokes, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Schmoop, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 02:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8310199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damichan/pseuds/lunarshores
Summary: Peter goes to what is supposed to be a simple briefing with SHIELD on a new threat to New York and finds himself under arrest for a string of murdered assassins—who have all been targeting him? Luckily, Peter knows exactly who might have answers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A happy little (well, it was supposed to be little...) oneshot to make amends for all the hearts I broke last week with Sitting Next to You... 
> 
> Thank you so much to [ImperialMint](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialMint), who in addition to being the best beta ever, also manages to catch all the missed dick joke opportunities!! You have her to thank for lots of this xD

“Spider-man, thank you for coming today.” Director Hill flicked through something on her tablet. “I know we don’t always have the best relationship, but there’s something that is concerning.”

“You said there were people dying all over the city. Of course I’d come. What is causing it?” Peter tried hard to keep the annoyance out of his tone, but he’d been left in the dark and led into what looked like an interrogation room for his briefing about whatever threat they decided they needed him for. 

“The victims have all died in different ways.” She made a face. “Some more gruesome than others.”

“How do you know they were all connected then? I hate to break it to you, lady, but this is New York. People die all the time.”

She raised a brow at that, and Peter glared right back. “They are—were—all well-known assassins, hired to kill the same target.” Director Hill slid her tablet over, flicking through five or six pictures—most of them mug shots—of some scary looking people. Peter only recognized one or two, but he raised his brows. Someone really wanted this person dead. “It’s been going on for three months now, though there hasn’t been a new victim in a few weeks.”

“Did the target die?” Peter asked, fascinated despite himself.

“No. We hypothesize that no one is willing to take a job with such a steep price anymore.” Director Hill took the tablet back, studying him closely, and Peter fought the urge to squirm or check his mask.

“Who was the target?” he finally asked, feeling like he was losing some important contest by breaking the silence. 

“It was you, Spider-man.” She leaned across the table. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about these murders would you?”

Peter blinked. Him? Someone wanted him dead that much? Something in Director Hill’s stare finally made everything click. This really  _ was _ an interrogation room. They thought he’d murdered all those people, some of them in ways inventive enough to make  _ Director Hill _ blanch slightly. 

“You think I did this.” Peter laughed without any humor. “Of course you do. And you people wonder why I won’t join your little group. I don't kill. Ever. Period. I can say it as many different ways as you’d like.”

“We have a hard time trusting you when you won’t trust us. You’ll hide your face, your name, why not something else?”

Peter scooted his chair back and wasn’t in the least surprised to have a gun pulled on him. “Well, I’m going to leave, maybe find out what’s actually behind this, and oh! Maybe who wants me dead.”

“I’m going to have to object to that.”

Peter grinned ferally. “And what does that have to do with anything?” She shot at him when he started to the door, and he snagged the dart out of the air, raising his brows at the name of the drug on the side. They weren’t kidding around.

He saluted mockingly, dodging the next two shots, and kicked through the locked door, snapping it off his hinges.

“Whoops, sorry about that,” he called back. More darts were his only answer, and he flipped into a handstand, spreading his legs, and webbed himself down the hall. Sirens started blaring, and he could hear Director Hill shouting into a radio. People began swarming the hall, and more darts sprang at him from both sides.

“Stop, Spider-man!”

“Why would I do that? You’re trying to capture me.” Peter dodged, and, rather predictably if you asked him, the two sides ended up shooting each other.

“Have a nice nap, sleeping beauties. That guy could really use some beauty sleep if you ask me,” Peter said, pointing to one of the men who’d been darted. He vaulted over the agents on the way to the deck and webbed upstairs with a thwip. 

“He’s heading to deck! We’ll corner him there,” an agent yelled. Peter rolled his eyes as he burst out onto deck. No subtly, even if they didn’t know he had super hearing. They’d arranged for him to board the helicarrier, probably because there was no obvious escape. There were agents surrounding the door he’d exploded out of, but he took their momentary pause to vault over them, flipping from the shoulders of one agent to the next. 

“Excuse me, pardon me, going to be late, you understand,” Peter said. He landed at last on the railing, New York tiny beneath him. Peter whistled and turned back to the agents just in time to see Director Hill emerge on deck.

“Hold your fire!’ she yelled. “He could fall off if you hit him.”

Peter clutched his chest dramatically. “Aww, Hill, I didn’t know you cared.”

“There’s nowhere to go Spider-man. Come down, and we can talk about this.”

“Hmm, let me think about that.” Peter tapped his cheek. “How about no?”

“We just want to ask you a few questions.” She was moving her hand in some sort of signal, and Peter decided it was just about time to go.

“Yeah, that’s why you’re trying to inject me with the stuff you use on the Hulk when he has a temper tantrum.” Peter stalked over to the corner of the deck, far away from the nasty spinny blades of death that kept the helicarrier afloat. “And you have questions? Please, the whole thing is pretty obvious if you ask me. And you don’t need to worry about it. I’ll be dealing with your murderer, you can be sure of  _ that _ .” Peter tensed, and—

“Wait!”

—flung himself off the helicarrier. 

“Call the Avengers! Maybe someone is close enough to catch—” Director Hill’s voice was cut off by the rush of wind, and Peter whooped. There was nothing he liked so much like free falling. Nothing beat the rush.

He angled himself so he’d fall faster, laughing as he dropped. He glanced behind him, but they hadn’t made it to planes yet. If the Avengers made it on time, he might have issues, but he doubted they would rush off to arrest him. At least he  _ hoped _ so, after years of being on their team they’d know better than to think he’d gone on a killing spree. And also that they’d know better than to think he’d have any issues free falling from  _ any _ height in  _ his _ city.

When Peter was close enough, he shot a web at the nearest skyscraper, swinging into a large arc to slow himself down. He landed on top of the Oscorp building in a crouch, and looked out across the city for a moment. It was beautiful like this, with the sun just starting to go down.

His face hardened. If someone had been killing people after his head, he knew exactly where to start looking to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

 

It took him a little bit to track down Deadpool, and it was well past dark by the time he heard a familiar voice humming Beyonc é . Peter dropped down silently on the roof behind him. Wade was coloring on the edge of the building as Peter crept up behind him to speak softly in his ear.

“So, Wade... We need to have a little talk.”

Wade let out a high pitch shriek, and a gun was pressed to Peter’s temple even as he caught Wade from falling off the roof.

The gun was lowered at once.

“Spidey! Don’t scare me like that! Sneaking up on me is dangerous, and if I un-alived you, you wouldn’t come back, and I couldn’t live with myself from depriving the world of the masterpiece that is your damn fine ass, and I’d  _ have  _ to because I can’t die, and it would be more torturous than watching the atrocity that is the  _ The Last Airbender  _ (movie of course, we all love that show) over and over for eternity!”

Peter was oddly touched at that. That  _ was _ serious torture.

“While it’s sweet of you to care, Wade, I think that might be the root of our problem.”

“We have a problem?” Wade’s frown was visible through the mask, but he shook off his obvious concern. “I’ll say, baby boy. Did you know that nice Mexican joint uptown closed down?”

“Considering their health score, that’s probably better for both of us. Anyway, Wade...”

“But what will we do on Taco Tuesday? We haven’t missed one for years, it’s practically bad luck at this point—”

Peter webbed his mouth shut with a thwip. It didn’t keep him from talking with the mask on, but Peter hadn’t done that in over a year, and as he hoped, the shock shut Wade up.

“I’m not in the mood for your trifling Taco Tuesday troubles, Wade.”

“Nice. A solid A, baby boy,” Wade whispered, and Peter inclined his head graciously because it  _ was _ a good alliteration. 

“You promised me, Wade, no killing, not in my city, not without a  _ damn _ good reason.”

Wade’s eyes widened at the swear, and he crumpled. The loss of the carefree happy bounce that characterized Deadpool whenever he was with Spider-man shot a pang of remorse through Peter, but people had died.

“SHIELD just tried to arrest me for murder,” Peter said, grabbing Wade’s wrist when he bristled. “No,” he said. “They have a perfectly understandable reason.”

Wade hissed, “No one sane would believe you capable of murdering flies for your supper, Spidey—”

“I still don’t eat flies!”

“—much less a person. I’ll go and I’ll—”

“Oh, but who has better motivation to kill a bunch of people paid to kill me?” Peter asked, and Wade scoffed.

“Actually there are quite a few people more likely than you. You think everything is your responsibility, you have no self-preservation, you’re likely to just jump and try to save people beyond saving. Anyone pratical would know you’re going to get hurt one way or the other, so it just makes sense to deal with it before you get involved. I bet the Black Widow would for sure. If she’d known about it, you know. And anyone who knows you, baby boy, would never think that you—”

Peter growled, shoving aside the wrist still in his grasp and strode over to the other side of the roof, running a hand over the top of his head forgetting he had the mask on. He yanked it off and whirled around to face Wade.

“You can’t just go killing people, Wade. I can take care of myself or did you forget how we met? Listen—”

“No.” Wade’s hands clenched at his side, and he drew up to his full height. “No! You listen. You don’t get to lecture me on this.” He stomped over to Peter, poking him in the chest. “You might not value yourself, you might not think keeping you safe from assholes like  _ me _ is a reason to kill, fine. But to me, baby boy, you—getting to be  _ friends  _ with you—that’s the best damn reason.”

Peter took a step back and swallowed. It had been a long time since he’d seen Wade like this, his senses silent even in the face of danger of Wade’s anger. He trusted Wade, had for over a year, knew Wade would never hurt him. But he’d seen what Deadpool’s fury could do too many times not to be on his guard.

“If you think I’m going to sit by, twiddling my thumbs, when there’s someone who wants you dead, you got another thing coming.” 

He turned away, and Peter could suddenly breathe again.

“I’ll clear things up with SHIELD.” He made as if to step off the at least fifteen story building they were on, and Peter snapped out of his shock and lunged to pull him back. Peter left his fingers stay stuck to the red spandex of Wade’s costume. He could feel the patterns of Wade’s breath under his palms and he exhaled, leaning his forehead against Wade’s back. Wade’s breath froze.

“Spidey?” he asked softly, and then ever softer when Peter didn’t respond, “Peter? I’m not entirely sure what to do with this newfound clinginess of yours—yes, I guess he’s always been clingy with his sticky fingers, but he’s never stuck to  _ us _ before. I know I have memory issues, but I would have remembered  _ that _ —You were going to punch me like two seconds ago, you’re going to have to help me out here. Is this some weird spider hormonal thing because I am so beyond happy to help if you go into heat like in all those  _ delicious _ fics.”

Peter let himself breathe in the familiar scent of Wade: leather, gunsmoke, Mexican food, and something indescribably but unmistakably Wade. 

“Don’t you trust me?” Peter asked, drawing back, needing the space. “I thought we were partners.” Wade spun around, dragging Peter around with him, like a dog chasing its tail. Peter unstuck himself so Wade could turn to face him, and they looked blankly at each other for a moment, then burst into laughter. When they’d finally quieted, Wade dragged Peter to sit on the edge of the roof with him.

“Of course I trust you, Petey! Why I’ve even told you my secret identity.”

“Everyone knows your name, Wade. Literally everyone.” Peter sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But why didn’t you tell me? We could have taken them in together. No one had to die. You didn’t have to do this alone.”

Wade drew out one of guns and unloaded it, loaded it, unloaded it. Again and again. Peter waited.

“Because you matter, Spidey. To m—lots of people. And you’re a great fighter, but you can... you can get hurt. So fragile. Some of these guys were bad.” Wade shrugged. “I’m not going to apologize for keeping you safe.” He holstered the gun easily, and Peter spared a moment to wonder how none of his weapons ever was flung off when he was whirling about fighting but they all came so easily to his hand before answering.

“I...” Peter sighed, biting back his automatic response to being called weak. From Wade’s perspective he  _ was _ fragile, he supposed. “I appreciate the sentiment behind that, Wade, I do, but... those people don’t deserve to die. They deserve a second chance.”

Wade waved that off. “Nah, they were all scum of the worst sort, Spidey. Some of them even gave me a run for my money. They deserved to die. No redeeming that.”

Peter raised his brows, tilting his head to look at Wade sardonically. “I think you’re worth a second chance. You’ve done so much good since we starting teaming up.”

“This is like my fifth chance! Sixth depending on how you count this little blip on my otherwise exemplary six month streak!” Wade waved his arms dramatically, and Peter ducked. “See? You never learn! You just keep expecting me to do better, and I can’t do it even if I want to make you proud. You think those creeps would even bother to try no matter how often you use the puppy dog eyes? No one cares they’re un-alived.”

“I care.” Peter closed his eyes, letting himself lean on Wade’s shoulder. Wade tensed but allowed it, stunned into silence. At least six more deaths to his name. Knowing Wade, there could be plenty more SHIELD never found. 

A hand on his shoulder had him looking up. “Woah, Petey, you’re not—this is all on me, okay?”

Peter smiled with all the weight of those deaths: Uncle Ben, Gwen, Harry’s father, so many more now. “Everything’s my responsibility remember? Those people were hired to kill  _ me _ . I’m apparently not competent enough to be trusted to deal with a few assassins or even to  _ help _ with a few assassins.”

He could see Wade’s eyes widen behind the mask and his jaw drop down. “No, no, no, Peter. No. This was all me. I would never—shut up, I know we hurt him! What do you suggest? I recall it was all your idea in the first place, so where do you come off all smug?—I...”

Wade dropped off into muttering furiously to himself, his gaze so strong Peter could feel it weighing him down as he stared off at the city slowly lighting up. He pulled his mask back on, only then noticing the silence. He looked curiously at Wade, who was still studying him intently. 

“I hurt you.” Peter was glad to have the mask back on, glad to have his expression hidden again. But Wade wasn’t stupid.

“Yes, but—”

“Stop making excuses for me, Petey. Things I do are my fault.” Wade sighed. “I’m not sorry for un-aliving those asswipes.” Peter opened his mouth, to say what he didn’t know, but Wade put a gloved finger over his masked lips, and Peter jolted into shocked silence, the warmth of Wade’s finger carrying through. He held his breath, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure Wade had to hear it.

This man had just brutally killed at least half a dozen people for him. He shouldn’t, couldn’t enjoy such a simple touch. Wade had reasons for being who and what he was, and Peter knew that he could be the same if he hadn’t had the support he’d had, the role models. It would be so much easier if he couldn’t understand. Hating Wade had always been easier, back before Peter had agreed to let him tag along with him.

Peter pulled himself back, shivering slightly.

“I am sorry it hurt you though. That wasn’t my intention.”

“I know.” Peter set his hand over Wade’s and tightened his hold for a bare second. “Thank you.”

Wade clenched his hand as Peter drew away and coughed. “Good because that was getting too soppy.”

A beat of silence hung over them, then Wade nodded to himself.

“Weasel's almost tracked down the guy who hired all those people. Said he’d have the information for me tomorrow. You can come with me, I guess. If you want to.”

Peter lips curled into a smile. “I want.”

“I’ll go confess to SHIELD and clear your name then. It’ll take me a bit to escape. How’d you get out of those nasty weird cuffs they had? I usually just chop my hands off, which yeah, bitch to regrow, but worth it. The looks on their faces. Or did you do that and just use your other six limbs.”

“I only have four, Wade. Still.” Peter smirked. “And I didn’t let them get close to cuffing me.”

Wade whistled, and Peter let his smirk grow. 

“Damn, baby boy, I knew you moved fine, but they are sneaky little bastards. But you’re wrong, no matter how you count, there are definitely five.”

Wade looked him up and down, gaze landing obviously on his crotch, and Peter flushed and pointedly ignored that comment. “Fuck SHIELD, let’s go for pizza.”

“Oh, I like this new bad boy attitude, baby boy.” Wade leered at him. “I’ve got a soft spot for bad boys.”

“Cool down, Molly Ringwald. This isn’t the Breakfast Club.”

“Does that make you John tonight? I’d sneak off to make out with you, that’s for sure.You’re normally a Ducky, Spidey—Ha, ducky-spidey! You think they have spider-ducks as well as turtle-ducks?—anyway.” Wade bounced into a standing position and held out a hand for Peter, who definitely didn’t let himself be tugged a little too hard until he was pressed chest to chest with Wade on purpose. Because that would be bad. “You should crash at one of my places though. They might be able to trace you, and you don’t wanna let them see your beautiful twink face, which they will if they find your apartment.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. But no pineapple on the pizza and definitely no anchovies.”

Wade whined as they stepped off the roof together. Peter grabbed Wade and shot a web to catch them. “It’s good you have terrible taste in pizza or you’d have no flaws.”

* * *

 

Light from the wrong angle woke Peter up far too early, and he groaned, stretching out the weird kinks in his back. Wade mumbled something under him, and arms tightened around him. Peter smiled sleepily and brushed his nose along Wade’s suit-covered collarbone, feeling his chest rise and fall in a sigh underneath him.

His eyes shot open, and he must have tensed because Wade shushed him in his sleep, running a hand down his back, the other one under the shirt Wade had lent him yesterday, hot on the base of his spine. Peter’s lips curved up, and he drank in the sight of Wade in the dawn light. His mask was only rolled up to free his nose and mouth, but what Peter could see of his skin shifted in the constant battle of cancer and healing factor.

Peter tightened his grip on Wade’s shoulders slightly and sighed. He needed to get up before Wade woke up. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep on Wade in the first place last night after their Avatar marathon. But he definitely couldn’t let Wade wake up to this, not when it was obvious they were both enjoying the contact a little too much. Peter wasn’t sure he’d be able to say no to Wade asking him in a voice still rumbley with sleep if he could help him out with... Peter scrunched up his nose as a list of highly objectionable or cliche things Wade could call his erection floated through his mind. Well, he could probably say no, after all.

Still, after letting himself have just a moment more to enjoy being wrapped in Wade, he sighed and untangled their legs and persuaded Wade’s arms to loosen. His lips pressed together in his sleep, and his hands clenched around where Peter had been. 

“Petey,” he mumbled, and Peter brushed a kiss to his masked forehead before he could think better of it. His heart clenched when Wade’s expression cleared and he snuggled back into the couch with a contented sigh.

“I’m such an idiot,” he said, and headed to the bathroom, which was actually not a health hazard in this safehouse. It must be new one, Peter decided, turning the water to icy and stepping under the spray with as sharp breath.

He came out in the Spider-man costume minus the mask to Wade bouncing around the kitchen, humming  _ Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go _ while making pancakes.

“Really, Wade, Wham?”

“No, no, no, it’s Wham! You gotta say the exclamation mark, baby boy,” Wade shot him a grin over his shoulder. 

“My apologies.” Peter sat down at the battered table. Experience had taught him that Wade prefered no help in the kitchen. Or maybe it was that experience had taught Wade that he should refuse Peter’s help at all costs. Same thing, really.

A cup of coffee was placed in front of him with the perfect amount of milk, and Peter smiled his thanks, inhaling the scent gratefully.

“Being on the run is nicer than I expected. I should stay over with you more often. You’re going to spoil me,” Peter said. Wade almost missed catching the pancake he’d been working on. 

He was silent a moment, and Peter feared he’d overstepped (Deadpool, silent?), but before he could make a joke, Wade grinned at him over his shoulder. A real grin, mask rolled up to his nose (you have to taste as you go, baby boy, perfection isn’t achieved by being complacent) so he could see the smile.

“You know you’re always welcome, Petey. Always appreciate good eye candy in the morning.”

Peter snorted. “Glad I could help spruce the place up.”

Wade set down two massive stacks of pancakes, then brought over another platter for refills. He slammed a jar of applesauce down on the table before placing his maple syrup on the table with reverence bordering on the absurd. Peter raised a brow while opening the jar of applesauce with ease. When he’d told Wade his favorite pancake topping, Wade had recoiled in horror and said such blasphemy would never occur under his roof. 

In all the times Peter had had his pancakes after staying over for one reason or another, there had only been (100% pure Canadian) maple syrup. Even when he broke into Peter’s apartment, the applesauce usually starred in some tragic, totally-not-staged accident. This was big.

Wade watched as Peter smeared his pancakes with a shudder, but he didn’t comment, not even to himself.

“So,” Peter said, mostly to distract Wade from the pain of watching him eat pancakes with applesauce, “what’s the plan?”

“You never like my plans.” Wade huffed and stuffed a massive bite of pancakes in his mouth, chewing with his mouth open.

“I reserve the right to veto it or make amendments.” Peter took his first bite and closed his eyes, humming in pleasure. Wade’s pancakes were always fantastic, even with maple syrup, but this was something else. 

Wade had stopped eating and was staring when Peter went for another bite. He quickly shoveled more pancakes into his mouth before answering. “Okay, Schoolhouse Rock.”

“We should watch that tonight if my name is cleared and it’s safe to go back to my apartment. I have it all on DVD.” 

“I got it somewhere...” Wade looked around as if expecting his DVD to materialize in the cozy kitchen. “Yeah, you’re right, I think we did put it in storage.”

“That’s the problem with too many safe houses.” Peter finished his first stack, and Wade passed the platter over after helping himself. 

“Too many people want me dead to just pick a place and live there forever. Who needs a home? This way I never had to clean. I just abandon ship when the cockroaches are starting to plan a coup and get a new safe house.”

“Apartments aren’t supposed to be disposable.”

“Meh, you’re just jealous of my not-cleaning.”

“I’m really not, but you’re avoiding the question.”

“Which one? Why I am allowing this abomination at my breakfast table? How you manage to make it look so good, I’m considering allowing it even when I didn’t seriously fuck up?” Wade asked.

“You really shouldn’t waste the amazing bribe potential here by letting applesauce be an everyday thing.” Great now he was arguing against himself. “And who wants me dead, and how are we dealing with them?”

Wade sighed. “Well, I  _ was _ going to kill them. And it’s Kingpin, from what Weasel said. He tried to cover his tracks but... the order came from him.”

“We have proof?”

“Nope.” Wade fidgeted in his seat.

“That’s fine. I believe you. But we’ll take him to SHIELD, okay?” Peter said.

“What about how they want to arrest you for murder?” Wade’s fingers drummed at the table.

Peter blinked and took a sip of his coffee, thinking. Right. He pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text to Natasha.

_ SHIELD’s trying to arrest me because Wade killed a bunch of assassins hired to kill me. _

She replied before he set the phone down.

_ I’ll deal with them.The guy behind it dead yet? _

_ No, we’re bringing him in today. Alive. _

_ Got it.  _

“It will be fine,” Peter said. 

“I’m not going to let them arrest me.”

“That’s fine.” Peter grinned and started gathering up the plates and taking them to the sink. “They kicked you out of jail last time anyway.”

“Not my fault they can’t handle my awesome, baby boy.” Wade poured them both more coffee then hopped up on the counter next to him to drink his as Peter started washing the dishes.

“How long we got before we head out?”

“He’s got a meeting with a bunch of other baddies at eight tonight so all day.”

“Mario Kart?”

Wade bounced up, looking like nothing so much as an excited puppy, and Peter grinned. “You’re on, baby boy!”

* * *

 

They landed on the roof of the building across from the warehouse the meeting was supposed to be going down, and Peter shivered when Wade let go and stepped away. Wade pulled a scope out from somewhere, knelt down, and peered into the lit windows.

“Yep, there they are. Half of New York’s underground leaders all in one room.” Wade sighed wistfully. “You sure I can’t just blow them up, baby boy? It would be a lot easier.”

“This isn’t about easy; it’s about what is right. So yes. I’m sure.” Peter frowned at him. “Wait, you were supposed to leave all explosives at home.”

“Yes. Yes, I was.”

“Why do I even bother?” Peter sighed and moved to stand behind him to get a better look.

“Did you know, I once tried the whole squirrels in the pants thing? It’s much less comfortable than she made it seem—shut up I know it was a stupid plan, but I had to know!—It was  _ your _ idea you ingrate.”

Peter rested a hand on Wade’s shoulder to stop the argument. “Did you end up with rabies?” he asked, stealing the scope so he could look for himself. There were more than a dozen people at the table and undoubtedly way too many henchmen. They could call for backup, but... Peter knew at least a few of the Avengers might be all for turning him in, and at least some of them might have a chance of being successful. And if Wade were there... It could get complicated.

“Can’t catch anything—tried everything when I broke into the infectious disease labs.” Wade heaved a sigh. “Still alive. Those fuckers just about ripped my balls out with their  _ fucking teeth _ . New respect for Candace. We should rewatch tonight.”

“I think the Murphy's Law show is out too,” Peter said absently. “What do you think?”

“I haven’t seen it yet, baby bo—oh, you mean about them. I could just burst in and steal Fisk. It would probably work.”

Peter shook his head. Too many people with guns. Wade would get hurt even if he made it out. “We could wait and tail him later? Catch them all, actually if we can, but one group at a time. We could them by ourselves if they don’t have any surprises, but who knows?”

Wade whined, leaning back to look at him, the top of his head brushing Peter’s thigh. Peter’s breath hitched, and he moved away to kneel next to Wade instead. Safer. Saner. Nowhere near as good of a view though.

“Fine, we’ll wait. So since I can’t kill the waste of space, what’s the endgame, Spidey? I personally favor using his own intestines to—”

“Alive, Wade.”

Wade pouted, the expression clear through his mask, and Peter’s lips quirked. The world’s most dangerous mercenary could really sulk. “He wouldn’t have to be dead. I wasn’t planning on it until after than part anyway.”

Inside the meeting looked to be going poorly, which was all the better for New York. Fisk smashed a hand on the table and everyone jumped. Wade snickered, one hand stroking a rifle as he watched Fisk with a kind of intensity that let Peter knew he had also brought live ammo in addition to the explosives.

Peter knew he shouldn’t be warmed by Wade’s murderous urges, but he’d been doing so well lately, checking the violence without Peter saying anything. The only thing that had made Wade snap in months was someone threatening him. He scooted closer and leaned his head against Wade’s shoulder, eyes still focused on the warehouse. He could have a moment of weakness right?

A wave of tension flowed though Wade where Peter was pressed against him, and then Wade froze, not even breathing. It took a few minutes before he felt Wade start to relax, but Peter just shut his eyes and let himself enjoy the warmth of Wade pressed against him. When Wade started figeted, Peter sat up abruptly. 

“Is it almost done?” Peter asked and turned to look up at Wade.

“Noooooo... it seems they are on the boring monologue part of the meeting.” Wade’s voice was soft, almost choked sounding, and Peter let himself settle back against Wade, but he kept his eyes on the building.

“They can’t be more boring than our briefings.” 

“Having attended both, I can say they are equally boring. The only good meeting is one I plan.” He leaned close to Peter’s ear to whisper. “We have  piñata s” 

Peter snorted.

Wade twitched, a short aborted move that had Peter looking at him. 

“Are—Are you cold? I could, um...”

Peter wasn’t in the least cold. “A little,” he said, and he didn’t have to fake a shiver when Wade’s arm wrapped around his shoulders ever so tentatively. He couldn’t bear to let Wade think it was unwelcome, and that was his excuse for snuggling into Wade’s side with a sigh. He was pathetic, honestly. There were really good reasons he should not be doing this. He couldn’t think of them at the moment, but they existed. 

His shoulders burned with the warmth coming off Wade, and he let himself remember what it was like to fall asleep pressed up against him. 

They were quiet a moment. Fisk stood up, pacing angrily, and Peter sighed. It didn’t look like they were going to be done anytime soon.

“Wanna do the voices while we wait?” Peter asked softly, and Wade grinned into his hair. 

“You know it. You take Fisk, I’ll be everyone else.”

Fisk drew himself up, and Peter snorted, deepening his voice and trying to get the right level of snobbery in his voice. “I am clearly the only important person in the room. All you lesser criminals must bow to me!”

Wade huffed, arm tightening for a breathless moment before a scowling man next to Fisk started to talk. “You might think you’re all that, but you not!”

“Seriously?” Peter whispered.

“What I don’t recognize him, do you?” Peter shook his head, shoving down his laughter as Fisk was speaking again. “Then I dub him Dr. Draken.”

“Fine.” Peter couldn’t help but grin. “What are you doing here Dr. Draken? I thought I only invited competent villains, not ones that get beaten up by teenage cheerleaders,” Peter said. 

“I hardly think that is fair, Fisk.” Wade was perfectly mimicking Dr. Draken now, and Peter had to laugh. “You were soundly beaten up several times by Spider-man when he was a teenage cheerleader.”

“I was never a—” Wade’s gloved hand covered his mouth.

“Shhh, don’t ruin my fantasies and also it’s still my turn.” Wade cleared his throat, as the man Fisk had been talking to turned to the woman on his left. “Shego! Tell this man how important I am.”

The woman looked almost as causally bored as Shego might have, and they both broke out into laughter when she just flipped “Dr. Dracken” off. 

“I will not sit here and be insulted!” Peter whisper-yelled, smacking a hand down on his leg just as Fisk did. They were both shaking with repressed laughter now, and Peter turned away from the scene to meet Wade’s eyes. 

“We might have to scrap the waiting sensibly plan. They’re about to start fighting,” Wade said. 

“Really?” Peter asked. “But they had to meet for a reason.”

“Yeah, it’s why bad guy meetings are  _ slightly  _ more fun that SHIELD briefings. Someone always dies.” Wade sighed, and Peter elbowed him. He yelped and rubbed his ribs, glaring reproachfully. “What? They are more fun. It’s just a fact, baby boy. It’s all just blah blah blah at good guy meetings. No one ever even pulls a weapon!”

Peter sighed, shaking his head. 

“You can’t even argue; you think they are boring too,” Wade said after a beat of silence, and Peter laughed, pulling away from Wade.

“I don’t think they’d be better if someone got shot though.” Peter shivered as he stood up, and they webbed a line to the building. “C’mon, I want to turn them all in alive, so we’ll have to interrupt them before the shooting starts.”

Wade whined and threw his arms around Peter, pulling him back. “No, let’s play more first.”

Peter let out a breath when his back hit Wade’s chest, and it simply wasn’t fair how insanely muscled he was. It was like being enveloped in warmth and temptation. Luckily, it went along with Peter’s plans just fine. 

“No, we’ve got to go save Dr. Draken.”

Though Wade was pulling back on him with considerable strength, Peter always had the upperhand in that, and he leaped from the roof, pulling Wade along with him. There was a smothered “eep!” against his neck, as Peter caught the web he’d put in place earlier, and they slid right toward the window. Fisk was pointing a gun at “Dr. Draken” just as Wade had said would happen, but he didn’t have time to shoot or threaten or whatever before they were reaching the window.

They crashed through in spectacular fashion. Wade yelled “Kowabunga!” as they broke through, and Peter dropped them to the ground to avoid the sudden rain of gunfire. 

“Why didn’t you tell me it was Saturday morning?” Peter asked as they rolled to their feet, back to back.

“I’m offended you think I’d have to tell you. I thought I was being obvious. We have a theme going in this oneshot. The author watches far too many cartoons.” Wade drew his swords and slashed through the gunfire, while Peter shot webs, yanking guns out of hands and tying people to walls. He flipped over Wade to punch out the bored looking woman from earlier. 

“Sorry, Shego,” Peter said, and turned to a mad scientist type. “What’s up, doc?” He kicked the man’s feet out from under him, then webbed him to the floor.

“Nice, going old school, baby boy.” Wade was on the other side of the room, working his way to Fisk. “For Dr. Draken!”

“He’s fine, Wade. He’s hiding under the table.” Peter shot a web at him to ensure he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Oh, well, the point stands. It’s not easy being blue you know!”

Another two massive goons came for Peter, and he dodged under their outstretched arms. “So, who’s Tweedledee and who’s Tweedledum? Or do you switch?” He tilted his head, but they just growled and lunged in unison. 

“Maybe they’re really one consciousness split into two,” Wade called from where he was mowing down goons with rubber bullets across the room. The henchmen were pouring in in streams, but Wade easily covered the only entrance into the room.

“That would explain the stupidity,” Peter said, and somersaulted through a small gap between them, then kicked up into a backspring that slammed Tweedledee into the ground. Tweedledum roared, but Peter twisted out of his reach and webbed him to the wall with three quick shots. 

His half of the room was clear, and he turned to say something to Wade, but the words died in his throat.

Wade had incapacitated the other half of the room and caught up to Fisk. He was standing over him, one half of Fisk’s face already swelling, swords out and crossed over Fisk’s neck.

“Wade,” Peter whispered. “No.” It was too quiet to reach him, though, and Peter was stuck, frozen as he watched.

His heart dropped to his stomach when Wade bent down.

“So, I heard you put a bounty out on my friend’s head, Billy.” His voice was all barely leashed violence, and Peter shivered at the contrast between his fun-loving, man-child of a friend and this ruthless predator. “I don’t like it when people put bounties out on my friends. Especially not cool if it’s  _ him _ .”

Fisk had guts, Peter would give him that. He met Wade’s eyes, didn’t tremble, shake, beg. Peter shook himself out of his paralysis and started closer, moving silently. 

“He is bad for business. He got in the way of my progress building  _ my _ city. Nothing personal.”

Peter was too far away, too far to react, to stop Wade. He opened his mouth, but Wade moved lightning fast, kicking Fisk in the stomach. Peter let out a breath, stopping near Wade.

“Now if were up to me, what happened to those amateurs you hired would look pleasant when they found what was left of you. You’d be begging me to be so kind as I was to them.” Fisk paled at that, and Peter didn’t blame him. “But luckily for you, Spider-man is here. So today, I’m going to be nice.” A line of red bloomed on Fisk’s neck, but even as Peter flinched he could tell Wade had barely breached the skin.

“So you’re going to go into SHIELD custody. And we both know you’ll get out, because we know how it goes, even if Spidey is a stupid idealist.”

“Hey,” Peter said, but Wade shushed him.

“Shh, Daddy’s working.”

“Never call yourself that again.”

“You’re no fun, Spidey. Now shut your stupidly gorgeous mouth a minute and let me finish my threat.”

Peter did, huffing out a laugh. It finally sank in that Wade wasn’t going to kill him, not now at least, and relief flooded through him, leaving him almost giddy.

“Now where were we? Ah, yes. Your inevitable escape like the worm you are.”

“Do worms escape more frequently than other things?” Peter asked, and Wade sheathed one katana to flip him off. He sheathed the other and knocked Fisk down, one boot on his throat. Peter could still hear him breathing though, so he didn’t interfere.

“If you do crawl out of the hole they throw you in, and you even think of doing something stupid like hiring assassins to go after Spider-man again, I will find out. And he won’t be able to stop me next time. And it will be even less pleasant that what I had planned for you this time.”

Wade withdrew some scrunched up papers from his pouches and presented them to Fisk with a flourish. Peter had never seen anyone blanch at crayon drawings before and decided he didn’t want to see them for his own peace of mind.

“There were only the early stages of planning, you see,” Wade said, his tone deceptively friendly as he flipped through the pages for Fisk to see and Fisk’s eyes got wider and wider.

He pressed down harder on Fisk’s throat, until the man was gargling, eyes bulging and frighted, then Wade let up, turning to Peter with a wide grin, over the man he didn’t kill for Peter but also wanted to for Peter. And damn if that did start all kinds of butterflies in his stomach.

“Spidey, honey bunches of oats, can I get a restraint on him?” Peter webbed him up without looking and jumped on Wade, throwing his arms around his neck and clinging.

“That was great, Wade,” he said breathlessly. Wade froze, but when Peter stayed there, his arms came tentatively around him.

“You’re very clingy today again, Spidey.” His voice was cautious, slow, and a bit wondering, and Peter looked up at him, smiling so broadly Wade had to be able to see it through the mask. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but...

“I’m happy.” Peter’s smile widened when Wade looked cautiously pleased about that.“And I’m going to kiss you now if that’s okay.”

Wade’s hands dropped like Peter suddenly burned him.

“You’re a clone or something.” 

“Nope.”

“That’s what clones say.”

“Well, if you don’t want a kiss...”

Wade’s arms came back around him. “It’s probably a hallucination but then.... I know I would have gotten to kill Frisky over there then, but how else do you explain the rest of—” Peter pulled him down and pressed their lips together firmly between their masks. Wade responded immediately, tightening his grip. His mask was thicker than Peter’s, but he could feel the warmth and pressure of Wade’s lips, and he shuddered as Wade’s fingers traced the seam of his mask and shirt, tilting his head in invitation for him to roll it up.

He rolled Wade’s own mask up to his nose, and then he finally had Wade’s lips on his. Peter sighed into the kiss, Wade breathing it in. Wade’s tongue flicked out, but when Peter opened to him, he didn’t follow through, but pulled back to look at Peter wonderingly.

“You’re so beautiful, baby boy, I don’t deserve thi—” Peter kissed him again, fast but open mouthed. When he pulled back, Wade gaped at him a moment.

“I—” He pressed another kiss to Wade’s lips. Wade grinned. “That’s not a good way to shut me up, baby boy. If that happens every time I open my mouth, I doubt I’ll ever shut up again.”

“I like it when you talk,” Peter said, and Wade laughed.

“Then you’re just as crazy as me.”

“Probably.”

Wade kissed him this time, capturing his mouth and taking everything, leaving Peter gasping for air as Wade explored his mouth with a hunger that made his head spin. When Wade’s hands wandered downward to his ass, he tensed up like he thought he would be rejected again, so Peter wrapped his legs around Wade’s waist, deepening this kiss. He moaned and nipped at Wade’s bottom lip. Wade inhaled sharply, and tightened his grip and—

Director Hill coughed, and they leaped apart. Peter ended up on the ceiling, still breathing hard and a bit muzzy, but with his mask down, and Wade stuck his hands behind his back like a guilty child caught with the cookie jar. He hadn’t seen him lower his own mask, but Wade’s face was also completely covered.

She looked around at the criminals all wrapped up and raised a brow at them. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that for all our sakes.”

Peter dropped back to the floor next to Wade. He shifted from foot to foot as Director Hill looked at them for a long moment.

“I killed all the assassins after Spidey,” Wade blurted out, and Hill blinked.

“Yes, Agent Romanov mentioned that. You’re cleared of all charges, Spider-man. We apologize for the confusion, but if you had stayed for questioning, I’m sure this could have all been avoided.”

Agents began filing in and processing the moaning criminals all around them. Peter smirked when he saw they were struggling to get them out of his new web formula. He changed it every once and awhile to keep them on their toes.

“Right, because you clearly were only looking to question me.”

Hill didn’t even have the decency to look mildly embarrassed. “As I said, you’re cleared.” Her gaze flicked to Wade, and Peter stepped in front of him without thinking. Wade put a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him.

“It’s okay, baby boy.” The familiar nickname was somehow warmer, deeper, and Peter felt himself flushing.

“Wilson, for killing six wanted criminals, you will of course be reimbursed your usual fee.”

Peter blinked.

“Wait, I get arrested, and he gets  _ paid _ ?” Peter spun around to glare at Wade, who shrugged. 

“They don’t expect anything better of me, baby boy.” Wade grinned at him, the traitor. “World’s not fair, but they figure if they can keep me killing their enemies and not them it’s a win-win. Plus, like you said, they always kick me out of jail.”

“I expect better of you,” Peter muttered, and Wade’s hand tightened on his shoulder.

“Mr. Wilson is a SHIELD-sanctioned contractor. It’s an entirely different situation,” Director Hill said. “You don’t report to anyone, and therefore are dangerous.” 

“Right.” Peter rolled his eyes at the thought that anyone would consider him more dangerous than Wade.

“I do like a bad boy,” Wade whispered loud enough the whole room could hear, and Peter snorted.

“Right, whatever.” Peter grabbed Wade’s hand, and Wade laced their fingers together with a giggle. “Are we done here?”

Director Hill’s gaze lingered on their joined hands. “Normally, I would say you should come in for a debriefing, but—”

“We’re going to de-brief in private, wink wink nudge nudge,” Wade said, and Peter couldn’t help but laugh at the horrified look on Director Hill’s face. “Literally.”

“On that note,” Peter said, “I’ll stop by sometime tomorrow—”

“In three days,” Wade said.

“—in a couple days,” Peter said because compromise was important in any relationship, and it was better to start off right. “To report. You’re on your own getting Wade in.”

“We don’t require Wilson to report anymore.” Director Hill just looked tired at that, and Wade leaned in until his lips brushed Peter’s ear. 

“It’s good to be insufferable sometimes,” Wade whispered, and Peter rolled his eyes at the unfairness of all of this. “Now let’s blow this popsicle stand so I can blow your—”

Peter scooped him up and sarcastically saluted to Director Hill before leaping out the broken window. Wade absolutely did not keep his hands to himself on the way back to Peter’s apartment now that he’d decided Peter really meant it and there were a couple of near-death experiences before Peter webbed Wade’s arms to his sides, so he could get them home.

It didn’t keep Wade from belting out Tove Lo though. Peter might have joined in, but Wade did have a perfect body, and it was catchy.

They fell through Peter’s window to the floor in a tangle of limbs and webbing and frantic laughter. Peter wiggled underneath Wade, squirming until he was on his back with Wade straddling his hips. Wade had managed to pull a knife from somewhere and had it in his teeth, trying to cut the webs from his wrists. 

Peter confiscated it before he could stab one of both of them. “Allow me,” he said.

“Oh, Petey, you’re too kind.” Wade gave every impression of fluttering his eyelashes despite the mask. 

Peter tossed the knife aside and tore off his mask as Wade divested himself of a ridiculous amount of weapons and random objects. His fingers settled on Wade’s throat where the mask met his costume and grinned up at him. “May I?”

He felt Wade swallow under his hands and kissed him through the mask, not wanting to wait.

“I don’t want you to change your mind. My face is a huge turn off, so—ah,” Wade said, trailing off as Peter pressed his lips to the hidden seam, tongue laving at him. “Maybe just halfway.”

“I’ve seen your face before, Wade. Trust me not a turn off.” Peter rolled up Wade’s mouth to his nose, kissing just shy of his mouth and trailing to his ear. He bit down lightly and Wade’s hips jerked, and Peter moaned when he felt just how hard Wade was for him. “I’ve wanted to watch your face as you fall apart for ages, but there will be time for that when you’re comfortable.”

Wade growled, pinning him to the floor and kissed him hard, all tongue and teeth and heat, until Peter was a panting mess. Wade’s hands found the seam in his suit, breaking the kiss and pulling Peter up.

“Can I?” Wade asked, and Peter laughed breathlessly.

“You can take off anything you’d like. I highly encourage it in fact.” He stripped off Peter’s shirt with a grin, and Peter could feel his gaze across his skin. He squirmed, hands sliding up to grip Wade’s ass, revealing in the hard muscles under the suit. Wade’s breath hitched when Peter’s fingers tightened, and he grinned down at Peter, radiating happiness in a way that Peter had never seen in him. And he had done that, he had made Wade smile without any sort of shadow lingering.

“So picturing you getting me off for ages, huh?” Peter grinned back and raised a hand to cup Wade’s cheek. He brushed a thumb along the edge of the mask before pulling him into a soft kiss, lingering. When he finally pulled back, Wade was staring at him in something like awe, which made Peter’s heart ache.

“Yeah, ages.” Peter smiled crookedly. “I think I might be in love with you.”

Wade stilled, staring down at him, mouth open. “You think you... you what?”

“Now I’m sure,” Peter said and pulled him down for another kiss. It took only a moment for Wade to melt down into him, and there was an edge of desperation to this kiss, a hunger, a need that shot straight to Peter’s cock.

Wade kissed down his neck, lingering on the pulse. Peter gasped when Wade sucked a mark into his skin. It burned as if Wade were branding him as his, and he arched into to show his approval. His hips shuddered up into Wade, his cock brushing against Wade’s enough to make them both stutter to a halt. Wade’s breath burst over his skin in harsh pants raising goose bumps.

Peter moaned out Wade’s name when Wade scraped his teeth across Peter’s chest to press openmouthed kisses across his belly and the edge of his suit’s pants. Wade’s hand skated across his dick, fingers tracing the outline before he wrapped a hand around it, squeezing, and Peter saw stars, bucking up into the touch.

“Why the fuck haven’t we done this sooner?” Wade asked.

“Because I’m an idiot.”

“Normally, I’d argue, but you kind of dug a hole for yourself here, baby boy.” Wade’s voice deepened. “And now for our main event... a blow job!” Peter snorted breathlessly as Wade stripped off his pants in one fell swoop. His cock jutted up, already fully hard, and Wade licked his lips, making Peter shift under his gaze.

“Oh no looks like we can’t have that de-briefing after all,” Wade said in mock horror, and Peter choked out a laugh.

“Looks like we’ll have to do without.” 

Wade tsked and shook his head, then just stopped and stared at Peter, eyes traveling leisurely around him until Peter fought down the urge to squirm under the scrutiny. 

“Have I told you lately that you’re beautiful?” Wade asked, and Peter leaned up on his elbows to look at him, one brow quirked.

“Yeah, not even a hour ago.”

“I lied. You’re absolutely breathtaking.”

Peter didn’t have a chance to answer because Wade was already licking a stripe up the underside of his dick and all the words fizzled out of his brain.

One of Wade’s hands settled on his hip, his thumb caressing and leaving hot trails along Peter’s skin. Wade took just the tip of his dick in his mouth, humming at the taste of precome, and making Peter buck against his hold. 

“Fuck, Wade,” he gasped out. Wade looked up to meet his eyes, and his lips twitched around him in what could have been a triumphant grin if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied. Peter fell back, spine arching, when Wade took him in. He must have had quite a bit of practice because he had seemingly no gag reflex. Possessiveness curled up in Peter’s chest, and he brought his hands up to settle lightly on Wade’s head. Wade’s tongue pressed against the underside of Peter’s cock as he started up a rhythm, taking Peter as deep as he could, then sucking up to the head and back down. 

Peter was shaking in no time, and he whimpered, short little breathy noise of sheer want. His mind was dizzy with pleasure, heat pooling in his stomach and building. Wade was so enthusiastic, spit dripping down his chin and Peter’s thighs, as if this were all he could ever want.

Every time Peter thought he was going to come, Wade would slow down, licking lightly at the head until Peter backed off the edge. Peter wanted to scream, and his fingers tightened on the back of Wade’s head.

“Wade, please, I need you.” His voice was hoarse, but apparently all Wade had been waiting for because Wade took all the way down and swallowed, his pace now almost punishing. Then Wade’s free hand was teasing at his balls, squeezing every so gently. Peter screamed his name as he came, hips shuddering and rocking in Wade’s hold as Wade swallowed messily, come and spit dribbling down his chin. 

Peter slumped back, smacking his head on the floor, utterly boneless. It took him a minute to realize Wade was speaking, and he levered himself up. “—and fuck, baby boy, that was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I have seen some—oh, you’re back. Hello.”

Peter blinked. Wade had taken off his mask and tossed it in the corner defiantly and was fidgeting, shoulders hunched. Peter smiled lazily and sat up

“Hello to you too.” Peter leaned in, wiping a bit of come off Wade’s face and sucking it off his thumb.

“Oh. Okay that could be hotter maybe. You know if this keeps up, it’s going to be hard to keep track.”

Peter chuckled, his eyes trailing down to where Wade’s cock was straining against his suit. He looked back up to meet Wade’s wide eyes.

“May I help you with that?”

“If you still want to, I mean no pressure, I know I’m not—” Peter shut him up with a kiss, sucking his bottom lip, and ravaging his mouth until he was half hard again and Wade was letting out needy sounding whines and shifting in place.

“Jesus, yes, Wade. I really, _ really _ want.” Wade moaned, biting his lower lip as Peter teased his cock through his suit with his finger tips. Wade’s hips jerked into the touch, his dick heavy and hot against Peter’s hand even through the fabric.

“Peter,” Wade gasped out, and Peter stopped teasing, undoing just enough of his suit to release his cock. It was scarred just like the rest of him, around the same length as Peter’s but definitely thicker. Peter licked his lips, grinning up at Wade.

“I’ve never really sucked a cock before this, so um, let me know if I do it wrong, I guess?” Wade groaned, his dick twitching and streaked with precome as Peter leaned in, so Peter decided his lack of experience wasn’t really a turn off.

He licked the head experimentally, and Wade shuddered and jolted. Encouraged, he gingerly explored Wade’s foreskin with his tongue before taking the head in his mouth and sucking.

“Fuck, Petey, I am not going to last long at all.” Wade’s eyes were wild, and his face was flushed and glistening with sweat. Peter released Wade’s cock, grinning when Wade whined.

“You’re pretty beautiful yourself, you know,” Peter said and meant it. “Even better than I’d pictured all those times I jacked off to the thought of doing this to you.” 

Before Wade could do anything but gape, Peter’s mouth was on his cock again, moving in a stilted rhythm. He couldn’t go very deep without gagging, so he wrapped his hand around the base of Wade’s cock and pumped in time with his mouth. He’d have to practice to deep throat, and he was a bit surprised at how excited idea that made him.

But Wade was making absolutely wrecked noises, hips jerking as he fought to keep from fucking into Peter’s mouth. Peter revealed in it, in the taste of Wade on his tongue, in the power to make Wade whimper and gasp his name out like a depraved prayer. It wasn’t long at all before Wade was pushing him away, and Peter jerked his cock a few times hand lubed with spit and precome. Wade came between them with a groan and slid bonelessly to the floor.

Peter followed, brushing a kiss on Wade’s cheek as they settled themselves chest to chest, legs entwined, covered in drying come and sweat, with Wade still mostly dressed. Wade brushed the hair out of Peter’s face and wrapped an arm around him to shield him from the cool night air that drifted through the window they hadn’t bothered to close.

“Would it be too cliche to say I love you too now?” Wade asked softly after their breathing had steadied.

Peter hummed as if in consideration, trying to hide the way his heart leaped at the question. He felt light enough to float, and he had to strangle laughter for no real purpose except he really didn’t know how to deal with being this damn happy. “Probably, but I’ll allow it this time.”

“I love you too, Petey.”

“I know.” Wade smacked him on the arm, and Peter reared back in mock pain.

“Stop being a dick for a second, Parker.” Beneath the fake anger, Peter heard the kind of wonder and joy and just shock that was humming through his veins, and he pressed a kiss to Wade’s shoulder. Wade hummed. “No, don’t stop I love your dick, especially now that I know how it tastes.”

Wade took a deep breath, his hand somehow coming to rest on Peter’s dick to give a loving squeeze even as he tucked his face into Peter’s hair. “I’ve loved you for ages, and I was happy just being allowed to know you, to be your friend, but this... I don’t deserve this.”

Peter snuggled closer, tightening his arm around Wade. “I love you too. And I don’t deserve this either, but I’m going to take it anyway.”

“Fuck, Peter.”

Peter hummed. “Sounds like a good idea for round two.”

Wade snorted. “Yeah, right, I call bottom first!” He made no move to get up though, just snuggled further into Peter’s hair and breathed in, clinging like Peter might vanish and any moment. 

The hard floor pressed into Peter’s shoulder and his arm was going numb, and it suddenly occurred to him to wonder just when the last time he’d remember to vacuum was, but he ignored all of that in favor of listening to Wade’s heart beating. They’d make it to bed (and round two) eventually, but for now, this was more than enough.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated! 
> 
> Come say hi on my [tumblr](http://lunarshores.tumblr.com/)!!


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